Ficlets
In response to the wonderful rococoms, sci_fi_shipper, and wishflsinfl who left me awesome A/R prompts. As always my eternal gratitude to anyone who feels like reading and commenting ;)
Title: Photos
Prompt: Bill finds out (or Laura tells him) about her sisters
Rating: K
Word Count: 941
Title: It Takes Two
Prompt: Bill asking Laura about her relationship with Richard
Rating: T
Word Count:885
A/N: My brain wanted to go somewhere really cute/teasing with this prompt, so naturally I decided to go here instead.
Title: White Knight
Prompt: A scene between Bill and Laura after her cancer cure, bonus points if Billy makes an appearance
Rating: K+
Word Count:1,339
Photos
“Did you know I had younger sisters?”
“What?” Bill looked up from the fleet’s weekly fuel report that they’d been discussing moments ago, surprised at the abrupt change of topic.
“I had two sisters, Sandra and Cheryl.” Laura stared directly at him and Bill felt himself fumbling for the proper response.
“I wasn’t aware of that Madame President.” He spoke evenly as he removed his reading glasses. “Of course you weren’t Commander,” Laura replied dismissively, “that’s not the point.”
Bill set his reading glasses on the table and cocked an eyebrow, he hadn’t know there was a specific point. As far as Bill was aware the point of their conversation had been to analyze the fleet’s use of fuel.
“Cheryl liked dark chocolate better than milk chocolate, and Sandra’s favorite flowers were Lilies.”
Bill didn’t see how that contributed to any particular ‘point’ of the conversation. They’d been involved in a meeting and Laura’s non sequitur about her family was just that, a non sequitur, used to share fleeting moments of sentimental family history with a friend.
“They used to collect sea glass from the beach when we went on family trips.”
Bill himself had been guilty of doing the same in multiple of their meetings since the return from Kobol. Except that Laura didn’t sound particularly sentimental. She sounded far more like she was still recounting facts from their fuel report.
“They would fight over who found the green glass and who found the blue,” Laura remained motionless on the couch and her gaze drifted away from Bill towards the open space of the room, “the thing that neither of them knew is that our father would always buy the glass in advance from one of the local vendors and spread it on the beach near our cabin before they went outside the first morning.”
Bill sat quietly and waited to see if Laura would look at him again, explain to him why she’d decided to share this with him today of all days, in the middle of a fleet status meeting.
“They thought they were so smart finding all of that beautiful sea glass on their own.” She looked back at him again and, despite the disengaged tone she maintained, Bill could see the tears glistening in her eyes as she held them at bay.
“And they were. They were so smart Bill.” He wanted to reach out had grab her hand, offer her some form of comfort, but even after their truce on Kobol he wasn’t sure if she would welcome it or pull away.
“Sandra graduated top of her class from university, and Cheryl could play three different instruments.”
“Laura.” Bill’s voice was kind but firm as he implored her to give him some sort of explanation to this sudden wealth of information about her sisters. Some brief hint that she was even aware of the fact that she’d inexplicably derailed their entire meeting.
“Cheryl liked television dramas and romance novels, and Sandra hated asparagus, and neither one of them could restrain themselves from stealing my clothes when we were younger. And whenever she visited me in my apartment in Caprica City, Sandra would make us run barefoot to the park fountain at night so we could dip our toes in the freezing water.”
The cadence of Laura’s voice was speeding up drastically with each new fact, and Bill was worried that she might start to hyperventilate soon.
“And Cheryl hated it when I refused to visit because it was parent-teacher conference week. And she loved it when we went camping, because Sandra and I sometimes get lost in the woods looking for sticks for the fire, and she though that was funny. And Sandra loved it when I braided her hair, even after she got older. And Cheryl,”
“ Laura.” This time Bill barked her name with more force, and Laura startled a bit. She turned to look at him and Bill could see streaks on her cheeks from where errant tears had escaped.
“Laura,” Bill repeated softly now that he had her attention and her breathing was returning to a normal rate, “Laura, what’s this all…”
“No one will remember.” She said sadly as she looked at him, pleading him to understand. “Before the blackbird naming ceremony today the doctor told me that I only have a few weeks to live. And no one will remember.”
Bill was horrified. Surely it couldn’t be that soon, he couldn’t lose the only other person leading this fleet in just a few short weeks. And he didn’t even know where to begin with trying to console her. Combat and sudden deaths in war he knew how to handle (albeit poorly), but he had no idea how to deal with illness and unavoidable, approaching death.
Then he realized what she’d said. She wasn’t worried about dying. She was worried about her loved ones dying with her.
“There are so many photos up on that memorial wall Bill. What happens when more people die and suddenly no one remembers who the people in those pictures are?”
Bill took a deep breath and nodded sadly, finally understanding her point. “I don’t even have a photo of them Bill. Not even a photo for people to look at and know that they were once important to another person on this ship.”
She drew a shaky breath and Bill smiled softly. He picked her hand up from the back of the couch. Rubbing his thumb slowly across the back of her hand, he scooted closer to her and said quietly, “So Cheryl liked dark chocolate better than milk chocolate. Tell me more.”
**
It Takes Two
“And what about Adar?” Bill spat angrily as he yanked open the stopper to another bottle of rotgut.
“What about Adar?” Laura asked tiredly from her position on the couch as she readjusted her scarf. Bill was drunk. Again.
His best friend had just lost his child, he’d agreed to repair his ship using cylon materials, and his lover was dying…so instead of dealing with any of that, Bill had barged into their quarters in the early evening already hammered and started yelling about the quorum, cylon politics, and how much he hated politics in general.
And now he was demanding to know something about Adar. Laura was tired, she just wanted to go to bed. Her hands had been shaking all day and she was beyond exhausted, but instead she was going to deal with this.
“What about Adar?!” Bill yelled as he turned to face her with his freshly poured glass in hand. “You think I don’t know about Adar? You think half the fleet doesn’t know about your history with Adar?”
She sighed. Her affair with Richard Adar was not the best kept secret in the Twelve Colonies and she’d anticipated having this discussion with him at some point, but now really wasn’t a time she wanted to deal with it.
“Yes Bill,” she rubbed a hand over her eyes, “I was sleeping with Richard Adar four years ago. And yes, some people in the fleet probably know about it. What of it?”
“You frakked the President.” Bill emptied his glass and slammed it back on the drink cart, “You had an affair that revolved around politics and power dynamics. How do I know that’s not what you’re doing now? Here? With us?”
“Oh Bill,” Laura shook her head simultaneously exasperated with him for even considering the idea, and sorry for how insecure and vulnerable he must feel about everything in his life to actually voice the concern aloud.
“Well is it?” Bill asked as he reached for the stopper, doubtless to fill his glass to the brim again, and Laura walked over and put a hand over the stopper.
Yanking his hand away, angry that she wasn’t letting him drink more during this conversation Bill snarled, “Is that the point of us frakking? For you to maintain control of the military even as you turn over more and more of the Presidency to Lee? Do you get off on the power? Do you fantasize about Adar and the power of the Office while we’re together?”
“Of course not!” If she’d been any other woman Laura would’ve slapped. Instead she simply lowered her voice and continued, “I’ve only ever cared about the two of us in this relationship. Something you seem increasingly incapable of doing…and besides, you’re the one frakking the President, so I’m fairly certain that equates you to Adar’s lover in this little scenario.”
His jaw clenched and Laura could tell he was about to respond angrily - perhaps that last shot had been a little unnecessary. He was drunk, sad, and incredibly scared. She didn’t approve of his way of coping with the situation, but she probably shouldn’t antagonize him either.
“We can talk about this more in the morning Bill. When you’re at least somewhat more sober and might actually want to hear my side of the story.”
Turning to put aside the conversation and head to bed, Laura’s hand shook uncontrollably as she lifted it from the alcohol stopper. Any belligerent reply Bill was about to make to her dismissal of the conversation died on his lips.
Even through his current fog he knew that he shouldn’t yell at her when she was feeling so weak. It wasn’t her fault that everything was frakked up beyond salvation. Laura wasn’t to blame for Caprica’s miscarriage or for Galactica’s failing hull, she was just trying to keep it together as best as she could during these insane times. Just like him.
Bill watched Laura slowly retreat towards the rack to get ready to sleep, and he felt suffocated by the hopelessness of the situation. If they couldn’t even steal happy moments together outside of all the pain and insanity of the rest of the world around them, then what was the point anymore?
He glanced down at the glass gripped tightly in his hand. He wanted to hurl it against the wall with all his strength and rail at the injustice of it all. Instead he softly set the glass down beside the bottle of amber liquid and walked quietly towards the back of his quarters.
Kneeling beside the rack, Bill gently stroked Laura’s cheek. “I know what we have is special - is different than what you had with Adar. It’s why I’ve never asked you about it before. I don’t care who you used to sleep with. I would love you if you’d frakked a hundred men. I would love you if you’d frakked Gaius Baltar.”
Laura let out a sniffling giggle, and Bill leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth. “I love you Laura Roslin, and these days, that’s just about all I really know for certain.”
Laura sighed softly. “I love you too Bill Adama.”
Neither of them was entirely sure if her words were spoken as an affirmation or a resignation.
**
White Knight
The wheelchair rim seemed to be permanently bent out of shape after slamming into the metal corner of a heavy supply crate on the way back from the brig, and there didn’t seem to be much hope of the chair moving functionally any time soon.
“Frak.” Laura muttered under her breath. “What did you say Madame President?” Billy asked as he looked up from where he was kneeling and examining the rim of the wheel. “Oh nothing.”
They couldn’t afford to damage supplies like this, there were people who were going to need this wheelchair more in the future than a patient recovering from cancer needed it now.
The chair needed to be fixed or it would be an unacceptable waste of resources. The bigger problem at the moment, however, was that Laura was faced with the challenge of how to get back to sickbay.
She’d sent the Admiral back to CIC after their meeting with the cylon sympathizer in the brig, because she didn’t want him to see just how much energy the meeting had taken out of her.
She wanted him to think that she was recovering quickly - that way he and Cottle would let her get out of sickbay and back to running the fleet in short order.
The problem, however, with faking increased stamina and quick healing, is that it is in fact fake - and Laura could tell from the shakiness in her limbs that no amount of stellar acting or mental willpower was going to get her all the way back to sickbay on her own two feet.
Billy was standing awkwardly by her side, waiting for some sort of instructions on what to do, and Laura could just imagine the look on his face if she asked him to carry her…he’d probably die of embarrassment.
She could ask her guard, but seeing as she only had one with her currently, he’d likely tell her that it wouldn’t be safe for him to lift her as he needed to be free to protect her from any unforeseen dangers aboard the Galactica.
That left sending Billy down to sickbay to ask Cottle for another wheelchair - where the poor boy might end up cowering in the corner after facing Cottle’s wrath for damaging the wheelchair, which really wouldn’t be fair as the sharp turn into the metal container hadn’t been entirely his fault - or waiting here until Cottle noticed she’d been gone too long and sent out a search party.
Given the way Billy was avoiding eye contact with her and shifting from foot to foot, Laura got the impression that he already felt very guilty about accidentally crashing her wheelchair while drooling over Dualla and then swerving to avoid running into a viper pilot.
If she sent him for a new chair and allowed Cottle to lay into him, it would probably take a week to get him to talk again. No, staying here was definitely the better option.
“Billy,” Laura began to tell him about her decision to wait in the corridor when a chuckle emanated from a few yards behind her.
Turing her head Laura saw the Admiral walking down the corridor towards her and shaking his head.
“I leave you alone for five minutes and you manage to get in trouble between the brig and sickbay?” Laura tried to glare at him, but she felt a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth in response to his teasing.
“Well I just decided to take a little break here and check if you actually listened to my instructions to head back to CIC or not. Clearly not.”
Nodding his head in mock seriousness Bill replied, “That’s very true Madame President, I did disobey your instructions. However this is a military vessel,”
Laura huffed and he continued with a smile, “and frankly while you may be a master politician, you’re stage acting could use some work.”
She opened her mouth to protest when he added slyly, “Unless you meant for me to see your hands shaking while you were telling me to go back to the CIC because you were feeling much better and fancied a brief stroll back to sickbay?”
Laura shot him an actual glare this time - she hated being caught out in a lie. “Alright. So are you just going to stand there and make fun of me or are you going to help the situation?”
“How would you like me to help Madame President?” Bill asked with contrived innocence - as though he’d simply been waiting for her cue to offer to help all along,
“You could start by going down to sickbay to get another wheelchair.” “Oh no” he replied and Billy tried to chime in helpfully, doubtless to redeem himself from crashing the chair in the first place, “It’s really not that out of the way Admiral. Dr. Cottle has a couple of extra wheelchairs in the storage at the back of sickbay and I’m sure if you’re the one to ask for a new one he won’t hesitate to say yes,”
“Oh no.” Adama repeated while still looking at Laura without acknowledging Billy. “We can’t afford to let you near any more valuable supplies.” Laura rolled her eyes. “Just look at the way you’ve treated this one.”
“Alright,” Laura said skeptically, “and just what do you propose we do about the situation then?”
“I could,” Billy spoke up again and Bill once again cut him off without even looking at him - she really would have to talk to the Admiral about his tendency to do that - “It’s a simple solution really.”
“Oh yes?” Laura said with a raised eyebrow. She was fairly certain she knew where this was headed, but it was just so nice to be alive and relatively pain free again that she didn’t mind wasting a little time in her day to indulge Bill’s teasing. In fact it was probably good for him, he needed to have fun more often.
“Hmm, yes.” Bill said very seriously, “It’s listed right in the Colonial Fleet Officer’s Manual. When a President is stranded in the middle of a Battlestar corridor, the only acceptable solution is for the commander of that ship to carry her to her destination.”
“Oh it says that, does it?” She asked mockingly, even as she adjusted her coat into a better position to be carried.
“It most certainly does.” Bill replied with a smile as he neared her and then stopped just short of touching her to give her a sincere look to make sure it was actually okay.
With a brief nod from Laura, Bill lifted her in his arms, and apologized immediately as she gasped from some residual pain that was aggravated by the movement. “It’s alright” she reassured him in a voice that was much weaker than she would’ve liked. He nodded again before carefully setting off down the corridor with her guard, Billy, and the damaged wheelchair trailing behind.
Feeling bad for ruining his jocular mood by letting him know he’d hurt her during his lift, Laura teased, “So they teach white knight training in viper jock academy these days?”
A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Well I don’t know about white knight training in the academy, but if you really try and take care of yourself while healing over these next few weeks, I might just be convinced to tell you the story about my shore leave adventure with Saul at the White Knight Club,”
“The White Knight Club…” Laura said thoughtfully and then giggled as it came to her, “Bill! Wasn’t that a chain of all male strip clubs?”
“Ah-ah.” Bill shook his head, “You’re not getting that one so easily. It’s gonna take a full recovery on your part and more than a couple glasses of ambrosia on my end before you hear any more of that particular tale.”
“Hmm,” Laura said thoughtfully as she rested her head against his shoulder, “all the more incentive to get better soon I guess.”
Title: Photos
Prompt: Bill finds out (or Laura tells him) about her sisters
Rating: K
Word Count: 941
Title: It Takes Two
Prompt: Bill asking Laura about her relationship with Richard
Rating: T
Word Count:885
A/N: My brain wanted to go somewhere really cute/teasing with this prompt, so naturally I decided to go here instead.
Title: White Knight
Prompt: A scene between Bill and Laura after her cancer cure, bonus points if Billy makes an appearance
Rating: K+
Word Count:1,339
Photos
“Did you know I had younger sisters?”
“What?” Bill looked up from the fleet’s weekly fuel report that they’d been discussing moments ago, surprised at the abrupt change of topic.
“I had two sisters, Sandra and Cheryl.” Laura stared directly at him and Bill felt himself fumbling for the proper response.
“I wasn’t aware of that Madame President.” He spoke evenly as he removed his reading glasses. “Of course you weren’t Commander,” Laura replied dismissively, “that’s not the point.”
Bill set his reading glasses on the table and cocked an eyebrow, he hadn’t know there was a specific point. As far as Bill was aware the point of their conversation had been to analyze the fleet’s use of fuel.
“Cheryl liked dark chocolate better than milk chocolate, and Sandra’s favorite flowers were Lilies.”
Bill didn’t see how that contributed to any particular ‘point’ of the conversation. They’d been involved in a meeting and Laura’s non sequitur about her family was just that, a non sequitur, used to share fleeting moments of sentimental family history with a friend.
“They used to collect sea glass from the beach when we went on family trips.”
Bill himself had been guilty of doing the same in multiple of their meetings since the return from Kobol. Except that Laura didn’t sound particularly sentimental. She sounded far more like she was still recounting facts from their fuel report.
“They would fight over who found the green glass and who found the blue,” Laura remained motionless on the couch and her gaze drifted away from Bill towards the open space of the room, “the thing that neither of them knew is that our father would always buy the glass in advance from one of the local vendors and spread it on the beach near our cabin before they went outside the first morning.”
Bill sat quietly and waited to see if Laura would look at him again, explain to him why she’d decided to share this with him today of all days, in the middle of a fleet status meeting.
“They thought they were so smart finding all of that beautiful sea glass on their own.” She looked back at him again and, despite the disengaged tone she maintained, Bill could see the tears glistening in her eyes as she held them at bay.
“And they were. They were so smart Bill.” He wanted to reach out had grab her hand, offer her some form of comfort, but even after their truce on Kobol he wasn’t sure if she would welcome it or pull away.
“Sandra graduated top of her class from university, and Cheryl could play three different instruments.”
“Laura.” Bill’s voice was kind but firm as he implored her to give him some sort of explanation to this sudden wealth of information about her sisters. Some brief hint that she was even aware of the fact that she’d inexplicably derailed their entire meeting.
“Cheryl liked television dramas and romance novels, and Sandra hated asparagus, and neither one of them could restrain themselves from stealing my clothes when we were younger. And whenever she visited me in my apartment in Caprica City, Sandra would make us run barefoot to the park fountain at night so we could dip our toes in the freezing water.”
The cadence of Laura’s voice was speeding up drastically with each new fact, and Bill was worried that she might start to hyperventilate soon.
“And Cheryl hated it when I refused to visit because it was parent-teacher conference week. And she loved it when we went camping, because Sandra and I sometimes get lost in the woods looking for sticks for the fire, and she though that was funny. And Sandra loved it when I braided her hair, even after she got older. And Cheryl,”
“ Laura.” This time Bill barked her name with more force, and Laura startled a bit. She turned to look at him and Bill could see streaks on her cheeks from where errant tears had escaped.
“Laura,” Bill repeated softly now that he had her attention and her breathing was returning to a normal rate, “Laura, what’s this all…”
“No one will remember.” She said sadly as she looked at him, pleading him to understand. “Before the blackbird naming ceremony today the doctor told me that I only have a few weeks to live. And no one will remember.”
Bill was horrified. Surely it couldn’t be that soon, he couldn’t lose the only other person leading this fleet in just a few short weeks. And he didn’t even know where to begin with trying to console her. Combat and sudden deaths in war he knew how to handle (albeit poorly), but he had no idea how to deal with illness and unavoidable, approaching death.
Then he realized what she’d said. She wasn’t worried about dying. She was worried about her loved ones dying with her.
“There are so many photos up on that memorial wall Bill. What happens when more people die and suddenly no one remembers who the people in those pictures are?”
Bill took a deep breath and nodded sadly, finally understanding her point. “I don’t even have a photo of them Bill. Not even a photo for people to look at and know that they were once important to another person on this ship.”
She drew a shaky breath and Bill smiled softly. He picked her hand up from the back of the couch. Rubbing his thumb slowly across the back of her hand, he scooted closer to her and said quietly, “So Cheryl liked dark chocolate better than milk chocolate. Tell me more.”
**
It Takes Two
“And what about Adar?” Bill spat angrily as he yanked open the stopper to another bottle of rotgut.
“What about Adar?” Laura asked tiredly from her position on the couch as she readjusted her scarf. Bill was drunk. Again.
His best friend had just lost his child, he’d agreed to repair his ship using cylon materials, and his lover was dying…so instead of dealing with any of that, Bill had barged into their quarters in the early evening already hammered and started yelling about the quorum, cylon politics, and how much he hated politics in general.
And now he was demanding to know something about Adar. Laura was tired, she just wanted to go to bed. Her hands had been shaking all day and she was beyond exhausted, but instead she was going to deal with this.
“What about Adar?!” Bill yelled as he turned to face her with his freshly poured glass in hand. “You think I don’t know about Adar? You think half the fleet doesn’t know about your history with Adar?”
She sighed. Her affair with Richard Adar was not the best kept secret in the Twelve Colonies and she’d anticipated having this discussion with him at some point, but now really wasn’t a time she wanted to deal with it.
“Yes Bill,” she rubbed a hand over her eyes, “I was sleeping with Richard Adar four years ago. And yes, some people in the fleet probably know about it. What of it?”
“You frakked the President.” Bill emptied his glass and slammed it back on the drink cart, “You had an affair that revolved around politics and power dynamics. How do I know that’s not what you’re doing now? Here? With us?”
“Oh Bill,” Laura shook her head simultaneously exasperated with him for even considering the idea, and sorry for how insecure and vulnerable he must feel about everything in his life to actually voice the concern aloud.
“Well is it?” Bill asked as he reached for the stopper, doubtless to fill his glass to the brim again, and Laura walked over and put a hand over the stopper.
Yanking his hand away, angry that she wasn’t letting him drink more during this conversation Bill snarled, “Is that the point of us frakking? For you to maintain control of the military even as you turn over more and more of the Presidency to Lee? Do you get off on the power? Do you fantasize about Adar and the power of the Office while we’re together?”
“Of course not!” If she’d been any other woman Laura would’ve slapped. Instead she simply lowered her voice and continued, “I’ve only ever cared about the two of us in this relationship. Something you seem increasingly incapable of doing…and besides, you’re the one frakking the President, so I’m fairly certain that equates you to Adar’s lover in this little scenario.”
His jaw clenched and Laura could tell he was about to respond angrily - perhaps that last shot had been a little unnecessary. He was drunk, sad, and incredibly scared. She didn’t approve of his way of coping with the situation, but she probably shouldn’t antagonize him either.
“We can talk about this more in the morning Bill. When you’re at least somewhat more sober and might actually want to hear my side of the story.”
Turning to put aside the conversation and head to bed, Laura’s hand shook uncontrollably as she lifted it from the alcohol stopper. Any belligerent reply Bill was about to make to her dismissal of the conversation died on his lips.
Even through his current fog he knew that he shouldn’t yell at her when she was feeling so weak. It wasn’t her fault that everything was frakked up beyond salvation. Laura wasn’t to blame for Caprica’s miscarriage or for Galactica’s failing hull, she was just trying to keep it together as best as she could during these insane times. Just like him.
Bill watched Laura slowly retreat towards the rack to get ready to sleep, and he felt suffocated by the hopelessness of the situation. If they couldn’t even steal happy moments together outside of all the pain and insanity of the rest of the world around them, then what was the point anymore?
He glanced down at the glass gripped tightly in his hand. He wanted to hurl it against the wall with all his strength and rail at the injustice of it all. Instead he softly set the glass down beside the bottle of amber liquid and walked quietly towards the back of his quarters.
Kneeling beside the rack, Bill gently stroked Laura’s cheek. “I know what we have is special - is different than what you had with Adar. It’s why I’ve never asked you about it before. I don’t care who you used to sleep with. I would love you if you’d frakked a hundred men. I would love you if you’d frakked Gaius Baltar.”
Laura let out a sniffling giggle, and Bill leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth. “I love you Laura Roslin, and these days, that’s just about all I really know for certain.”
Laura sighed softly. “I love you too Bill Adama.”
Neither of them was entirely sure if her words were spoken as an affirmation or a resignation.
**
White Knight
The wheelchair rim seemed to be permanently bent out of shape after slamming into the metal corner of a heavy supply crate on the way back from the brig, and there didn’t seem to be much hope of the chair moving functionally any time soon.
“Frak.” Laura muttered under her breath. “What did you say Madame President?” Billy asked as he looked up from where he was kneeling and examining the rim of the wheel. “Oh nothing.”
They couldn’t afford to damage supplies like this, there were people who were going to need this wheelchair more in the future than a patient recovering from cancer needed it now.
The chair needed to be fixed or it would be an unacceptable waste of resources. The bigger problem at the moment, however, was that Laura was faced with the challenge of how to get back to sickbay.
She’d sent the Admiral back to CIC after their meeting with the cylon sympathizer in the brig, because she didn’t want him to see just how much energy the meeting had taken out of her.
She wanted him to think that she was recovering quickly - that way he and Cottle would let her get out of sickbay and back to running the fleet in short order.
The problem, however, with faking increased stamina and quick healing, is that it is in fact fake - and Laura could tell from the shakiness in her limbs that no amount of stellar acting or mental willpower was going to get her all the way back to sickbay on her own two feet.
Billy was standing awkwardly by her side, waiting for some sort of instructions on what to do, and Laura could just imagine the look on his face if she asked him to carry her…he’d probably die of embarrassment.
She could ask her guard, but seeing as she only had one with her currently, he’d likely tell her that it wouldn’t be safe for him to lift her as he needed to be free to protect her from any unforeseen dangers aboard the Galactica.
That left sending Billy down to sickbay to ask Cottle for another wheelchair - where the poor boy might end up cowering in the corner after facing Cottle’s wrath for damaging the wheelchair, which really wouldn’t be fair as the sharp turn into the metal container hadn’t been entirely his fault - or waiting here until Cottle noticed she’d been gone too long and sent out a search party.
Given the way Billy was avoiding eye contact with her and shifting from foot to foot, Laura got the impression that he already felt very guilty about accidentally crashing her wheelchair while drooling over Dualla and then swerving to avoid running into a viper pilot.
If she sent him for a new chair and allowed Cottle to lay into him, it would probably take a week to get him to talk again. No, staying here was definitely the better option.
“Billy,” Laura began to tell him about her decision to wait in the corridor when a chuckle emanated from a few yards behind her.
Turing her head Laura saw the Admiral walking down the corridor towards her and shaking his head.
“I leave you alone for five minutes and you manage to get in trouble between the brig and sickbay?” Laura tried to glare at him, but she felt a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth in response to his teasing.
“Well I just decided to take a little break here and check if you actually listened to my instructions to head back to CIC or not. Clearly not.”
Nodding his head in mock seriousness Bill replied, “That’s very true Madame President, I did disobey your instructions. However this is a military vessel,”
Laura huffed and he continued with a smile, “and frankly while you may be a master politician, you’re stage acting could use some work.”
She opened her mouth to protest when he added slyly, “Unless you meant for me to see your hands shaking while you were telling me to go back to the CIC because you were feeling much better and fancied a brief stroll back to sickbay?”
Laura shot him an actual glare this time - she hated being caught out in a lie. “Alright. So are you just going to stand there and make fun of me or are you going to help the situation?”
“How would you like me to help Madame President?” Bill asked with contrived innocence - as though he’d simply been waiting for her cue to offer to help all along,
“You could start by going down to sickbay to get another wheelchair.” “Oh no” he replied and Billy tried to chime in helpfully, doubtless to redeem himself from crashing the chair in the first place, “It’s really not that out of the way Admiral. Dr. Cottle has a couple of extra wheelchairs in the storage at the back of sickbay and I’m sure if you’re the one to ask for a new one he won’t hesitate to say yes,”
“Oh no.” Adama repeated while still looking at Laura without acknowledging Billy. “We can’t afford to let you near any more valuable supplies.” Laura rolled her eyes. “Just look at the way you’ve treated this one.”
“Alright,” Laura said skeptically, “and just what do you propose we do about the situation then?”
“I could,” Billy spoke up again and Bill once again cut him off without even looking at him - she really would have to talk to the Admiral about his tendency to do that - “It’s a simple solution really.”
“Oh yes?” Laura said with a raised eyebrow. She was fairly certain she knew where this was headed, but it was just so nice to be alive and relatively pain free again that she didn’t mind wasting a little time in her day to indulge Bill’s teasing. In fact it was probably good for him, he needed to have fun more often.
“Hmm, yes.” Bill said very seriously, “It’s listed right in the Colonial Fleet Officer’s Manual. When a President is stranded in the middle of a Battlestar corridor, the only acceptable solution is for the commander of that ship to carry her to her destination.”
“Oh it says that, does it?” She asked mockingly, even as she adjusted her coat into a better position to be carried.
“It most certainly does.” Bill replied with a smile as he neared her and then stopped just short of touching her to give her a sincere look to make sure it was actually okay.
With a brief nod from Laura, Bill lifted her in his arms, and apologized immediately as she gasped from some residual pain that was aggravated by the movement. “It’s alright” she reassured him in a voice that was much weaker than she would’ve liked. He nodded again before carefully setting off down the corridor with her guard, Billy, and the damaged wheelchair trailing behind.
Feeling bad for ruining his jocular mood by letting him know he’d hurt her during his lift, Laura teased, “So they teach white knight training in viper jock academy these days?”
A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Well I don’t know about white knight training in the academy, but if you really try and take care of yourself while healing over these next few weeks, I might just be convinced to tell you the story about my shore leave adventure with Saul at the White Knight Club,”
“The White Knight Club…” Laura said thoughtfully and then giggled as it came to her, “Bill! Wasn’t that a chain of all male strip clubs?”
“Ah-ah.” Bill shook his head, “You’re not getting that one so easily. It’s gonna take a full recovery on your part and more than a couple glasses of ambrosia on my end before you hear any more of that particular tale.”
“Hmm,” Laura said thoughtfully as she rested her head against his shoulder, “all the more incentive to get better soon I guess.”